cold is what we talk about
lower thirties what we have
some fears of losing power
for it did, did happen before
we bundled up, run to store
found out there's no generator
we have to rent beyond favor
we cross our fingers to faith
keep on hoping we have sunlit
melt this mass we done with it
jet stream move up hemisphere
leave us alone, I bet you dare
now I have enough that I care
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem